


surprises

by soggywormcircus



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26791366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soggywormcircus/pseuds/soggywormcircus
Summary: Five times Charlotte snuck her way into Ted's stupid heart and one time she broke it instead.
Relationships: Charlotte/Ted (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 14





	surprises

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this a couple months ago and I'm WAY too tired right now to proofread so i'm gonna apologise in advance

1\. Ted doesn't know why he even shows up to these office parties anymore. At this point it's not necessary, he could just write everything that's gonna happen down and seal it in an envelope, then read it out loud at the end and baffle everyone like he guessed right on all the fucking Oscar wins. 

Bill is either going to leave fifteen minutes in to attend to some emergency concerning his daughter or sulk for a couple hours about his future divorce. Mr Davidson and his wife are going to show everyone what true love looks like, in the most unnerving way possible. Paul is going to try and stay away from both of these situations and is probably going to end up on his phone again. 

And Charlotte. Well. She's going to spend the evening whispering what is presumably sweet nothings in her husband's ear.

Ted really doesn't have to see these things again. 

He realises that he's wrong very quickly when he enters the room and hears Bill laugh. He stops in the doorway.

Paul and Bill are engaged in a conversation that seems to be both fun and intriguing, while Charlotte is sitting to the side, alone. The miserable expression on her face is in a ridiculous contrast to the absolutely hideous christmas sweater she's wearing.

At least Mr Davidson and his wife are up to their usual standards. 

When Ted hears the name of a certain movie drop in Bill and Paul's conversation, he decides to stay away from them for now and ruin their fun later this evening. His unexpected altruism is the only reason he greets them with a simple lazy wave and sits down across from Charlotte. 

She smiles a tired smile at him. She doesn't look too good. But then again Ted supposes he's also looked better himself.

'Merry Christmas, Ted,' she says. A lazy and douchey smile spreads over Ted's face that has nothing to do with the way Charlotte says his name. At all.

'Merry Christmas'. And well, because he's Ted and really can't help being an asshole, he asks, 'Where's your husband? Stan, was it?' 

'Sam'. Charlotte's eyes wander away from Ted's face. Her fingers are picking at the sleeves of her sweater when she says 'He is working a late shift tonight. Couldn't make it.' 

'On Christmas? Aw, that sucks,' Ted says, even though he can imagine that catching criminals right now would probably be more fun than whatever it is they are doing right now. Then again, who knew if that even is what Sam's doing. If Ted knows one thing, it's how to recognise a scumbag. 

It gets a little quiet around them. Pieces of conversation and the office's Christmas playlist the only thing for Ted to focus on. 

Ted perks up when he notices that Paul and Bill seem to have changed the subject. This is a perfect opportunity for him to barge in on their conversation and potentially make them wish they were one of the criminals Sam may or may not be arresting currently. 

His eyes get caught on Charlotte's hands. She's still fidgeting around with the sleeves of her sweater. Ted clears his throat. 'Did you make that?' 

Charlotte jumps a little and looks up with a guilty expression. 'Huh?,' she says. Ted gestures to what she's wearing. Charlotte looks down on herself

'Oh!', she says, and it's almost endearing. Ted frowns at the thought, and wants to frown some more when Charlotte beams and there's a ridiculous little flutter between his ribs. 

'Yes, I did,' Charlotte answers proudly, and her smile changes when she asks, 'Do you like it?'

'Uh,' is Ted's very profound answer. He has another look at the sweater. It's red, with a green Christmas tree embroidered onto it. Ted doesn't know anything about making clothes but even he can see that this must have taken a lot of time and effort. 

'It's-' 

He's just about to come up with a good lie when he looks at Charlotte again. Her smile  _ is  _ different. It's confident, cocky even, and teasing. 

She has one look at Ted's face, and then she laughs. Ted tries to remember the last time he heard her laugh but his mind comes up empty. 

It's a nice sound. Unexpectedly nice. Ted ignores that thought, too. 

'Don't worry, Ted,' she says cheerfully, 'you can't surprise me.' 

And then she winks. 

Ted slowly smiles back. 'No,' he says, 'I guess I can't'.

It's almost a Christmas miracle, but Bill and Paul are spared from Ted's malicious company for the rest of the night. Ted is strangely satisfied to find that apparently, everybody is having a good time (except for Sam, he adds mentally. May those alleged criminals beat the shit out of him). 

Ted has always watched Charlotte from afar, occasionally having the typical coworkers-who-aren't-really-friends conversations but he's never actually taken the time to properly talk to her. He finds that he likes it a lot. She's sweet and sincere and funny, and sometimes that cheeky smile returns. Ted tries not to enjoy it too much, tries to pull the Office Asshole to the surface every once in a while, just to make sure he isn't getting in too deep. It works great, for the most part.

Later, Bill does make his way home to take care of his daughter, but it's no emergency and he leaves with a cheerful wave, so Ted supposes he lost that bet. 

After Bill leaves, more people gradually start going home. But Ted is a sad bastard who doesn't have anything to do other than to hang out with his coworkers, and around 11PM he finds himself laughing out loud at something Paul is saying. Charlotte is stifling a giggle and Ted thinks to himself this is probably the moment he should get out of here and later blame everything on the alcohol. 

Paul leaves about 15 minutes later and Ted and Charlotte both decide that it's time for them to make their way home. 

'Do you need a ride?,' Ted asks, keys jingling in his hand. He's noticed before that Charlotte barely ever drives to work. He's never bothered to ask why, but now he's wondering. 

'Oh, I think I'll be fine,' Charlotte says. She's frowning, looking up at the sky. There's not a single cloud in sight. 'It's nice out.' 

'It's also fucking cold.' Ted unlocks his car. 'Come on, get in.' 

Charlotte checks the time on her phone, then she nods. 'Thank you, Ted.' 

They don't talk much in the car, except for Charlotte giving Ted directions to her house. Ted is just making a turn left into her street when she says, 'It was nice today.' Ted has a look at her from the side. Her smile is very sweet, which is worrying. He ignores it. 

'Yeah,' he says, 'sure was.' Then, he adds, 'Is this it?' 

The house looks nice, with tiny windows and red curtains. Still, the darkness behind them makes it look deserted, lonely, and somehow sad. 

'Yes, that's the one,' Charlotte says and so Ted pulls over. When he's killed the engine, they just sit in silence for a second. 'Looks empty,' Ted blurts out then, and immediately feels like an idiot. Charlotte just nods. 'Sam's probably not going to be home before morning.' Their eyes meet, and for a second Ted has the feeling Charlotte is thinking about something. She is chewing on her lip, and a second later, the moment is over. 

'I should probably get going,' she says with a cheerfulness that sounds much different from the one he remembers from a couple hours earlier. 'Thank you again, Ted.' She puts a hand on Ted's arm and squeezes gently. 'You didn't have to do that.' 

'No problem.' Ted smirks. 'If you need another ride in the future, hit me up.' 

'Maybe I will.' she has a hand on the door already when she freezes. She has a look at her empty house, and then looks at him. 

'Ted,' she says, 'would you like to stay a while? I think I could use some company.' 

The smile that appears on Ted's face is appalling, even to him. 'Well, sure,' he says. 'If you want me to.' This matters to him; he's an asshole, of course, but he's not going to force himself on anyone. If this is happening, it's going to happen because Charlotte wants it.

Charlotte nods. 

And so it begins. 

2\. They make it clear from the very beginning that this is not a relationship. Charlotte has a husband that she loves, and Ted is just in it for the fun of it. It's an easy arrangement, and for the first few months, it works a treat. 

If Ted’s coworkers are confused about his slightly better (but still bad) attitude at work, they are probably blaming it on That Christmas Party. Who would possibly think something else?

But who cares if this makes Ted feel more alright about himself and a little more friendly? Getting laid feels great. So what?

It’s the same with Charlotte. It just doesn’t show as much because she’s sweet no matter what. But she is more relaxed, and even though she keeps telling Ted that they should stop, she still texts when she’s lonely. She’s lonely a lot. But now she also smiles more. 

Not today though. She’s been blankly staring at her computer screen all day without much conversation with anyone, and she has that tension in her shoulders that Ted has come to associate with her husband. 

The only reason Ted even knows this is because he’s slacking off, and somehow doing it at his own desk just doesn’t feel right. 

Which is why he’s standing at Charlotte’s desk right now, and tapping her shoulder. 

She looks up at him with a tired face, and smiles in a way that’s barely there. ‘Not now Ted, sorry,’ she says, ‘I have work to do.’ ‘I know,’ Ted says. He hands her a lighter. ‘Cigarette break.’

Ted smiles then, because he can  _ see _ Charlotte trying not to roll her eyes. ‘You can’t smoke in here, remember?’ Ted raises an eyebrow. ‘You don’t know the roof?’ 

‘The roof,’ Charlotte says flatly, no recognition in her voice. Ted sighs overdramatically, like the asshole he is, and says, ‘No wonder you hate working here. Come on.’ 

‘I don’t hate working here-’, he hears Charlotte say under her breath, sounding annoyed, but when Ted leads the way, she follows him. 

Ted has learned pretty quickly that short cigarette breaks are something Charlotte enjoys. He himself doesn’t like smoking that much, but it’s something that relaxes her, so late night cigarettes have become a habit for them. Ted isn’t sure it’s a smart thing to do, but then again being cautious and careful isn’t on brand for him anyway. 

He's not on the roof very often, only when he needs a break from work or just people altogether. For Charlotte though, it seems like the perfect place to take five. Spring hasn't quite arrived yet, and it's a little cold but Charlotte doesn't complain. 

'How did you find this place?', she asks when they both have a lit cigarette and the silence has gone on a little too long. 

Ted shrugs. 'Ages ago,' he says, trying to remember his first few weeks at CCRP Technical. 'I guess sometimes I need to be just- moving, in order for my brain to be working. I did a lot of snooping around when I'd just started working here. That was also how I met Paul. But I'm not up here very often.' 

'You don't like being alone,' Charlotte says matter-of-factly. Ted doesn't say anything. 

For a while they just smoke in silence. Ted has a look around, at the buildings of Hatchetfield, and knows he should say something. He isn't sure how to go about it; this has never been something to think about. 

Eventually he clears his throat like an idiot and asks, 'Do you want to tell me what's wrong?' 

Charlotte puts the cigarette between her lips and inhales deeply. She’s not looking at Ted. ‘Why?’, she asks then. ‘So you can use it on me next time you want to get me into bed?’

That moment is the first time in his entire life that Ted chokes on air. 

Once he is over his coughing fit, he tries to look at Charlotte without gaping and clearly failing miserably. ‘I-’

He stops himself once he realises that Charlotte is smiling, just a little bit. 

‘Are you fucking with me?’ Charlotte’s smile grows wider and she turns her head away. ‘I didn’t think you would make it this easy.’ 

‘I can’t believe this,’ Ted says with a shake of his head and a quiet laugh. 

‘It’s nothing, really,’ Charlotte says then, after a few minutes of silence. ‘It’s just Sam, you know. He’s not doing too well.’ Charlotte looks down at her fingers. ‘But he’s gonna get better soon. It’s nothing I can’t take care of.’ 

‘If you say so,’ Ted says with uncertainty in his voice. ‘But if you can’t, just- I’m gonna be here. If you need me.’

Charlotte chuckles, and Ted turns his head in the direction of the sound. It’s a nice sound. 

‘You’re really not that good at this, are you?’ 

Without meaning to, Ted runs a nervous hand through his hair. He doesn’t like being nervous. These aren’t conversations he has. Or that he should have, at least. 

‘No, I guess I’m not,’ he says quietly. ‘Sorry.’

‘No,’ Charlotte says, her voice sounds a little lighter now, ‘it’s fine. You don’t have to do any of this. You don’t need to feel obligated to say these things, you know this is-’

‘Oh,’ Ted says dumbly. He feels his heart sinking a little at the words, which is silly. This is exactly what he wants, no strings and no - how did she put it? - no  _ obligations _ .

‘No, I don’t, I guess I just-’ he trails off, shakes his head. It doesn’t make the feeling go away, and he hates it. ‘I just noticed.’

‘That’s sweet of you,’ Charlotte says. Ted looks at her, sees her smirk, and finds it easier to dig up the office asshole he’s so comfortable with. He smiles back, tries to make it look as nasty as possible. ‘Yeah,’ he says, and then, ‘whatever.’

Charlotte nods. Ted thinks maybe he sees her smile disappearing a little, but he’s probably just imagining things. ‘Right,’ she says. She gets up. 

‘I should probably get back to work around now,’ she says as she straightens her skirt. She’s not looking at Ted. ‘Thanks for the cigarette.’ And then she’s gone. 

Ted stays where he is, sitting on a cold ass roof with a half-smoked cigarette. 

‘No problem,’ he says. He shakes his head, throws his cigarette on the floor and crushes it underneath his shoe. 

3\. Ted thinks about Sam a lot. He hates admitting it, because every time Charlotte mentions him he does a show of being annoyed, as if he wasn't just wondering about the same thing. Ted thinks it's strange, that they think about the same person when they're together, and it's not one of them.

It's not like he doesn't think of Charlotte as well when he thinks of Sam. He keeps wondering what kind of a husband he is now, and how different it is from the way he was back when they got married. He can't kiss Charlotte in peace without wondering what's so special about Sam, that Charlotte keeps talking about him, that Charlotte is constantly distracted when Ted is with her. Not because he's jealous or whatever. He just genuinely doesn't get it. 

When Charlotte tells Ted and the rest of their coworker/friends that her and Sam have started going to marriage counseling together, he smiles very insincerely. When he makes it home from work that day, he walks to the nearest bar to get drunk. He leaves his phone at home. But Charlotte doesn't text him anyway.

She doesn't text him at all during the next few months. She's friendly at work and so is Ted, but they don't see each other outside of work anymore. 

Four months go by before Charlotte calls him again. She sounds like she is about to cry on the phone, but when Ted shows up at her home there are no more tears in her eyes. Ted doesn't ask. 

She still talks about him at work after that, just not as often. Most of the time when she does, Ted simply pretends not to listen. 

And not much changes with the two of them, after that. Charlotte simply voices her regret at their affair a little more often, which is totally fine. Because she keeps calling him whenever she is lonely anyway. And Ted doesn’t care. He really doesn’t. 

He just thinks that Charlotte could do better. But he’s sure everyone that knows her agrees with him on this. 

That’s also the reason he reacts the way he does that night. Charlotte hasn’t called him in a couple days, so now he’s spent his night just aimlessly walking from bar to bar, and barely drinking anything at all. 

He’s been feeling really great the whole night, and not depressed and frustrated for no reason. Totally unrelated to that, he is almost relieved when the world finally decides to give him one. A really good one, at that. 

He’s just about to decide to go home after leaving the fourth bar when he bumps right into them. Charlotte, her hair braided neatly, and next to her is Sam. 

Ted hasn’t seen him in what feels like forever but probably was only about one and a half years, maybe two. 

He can see what keeps Charlotte coming back to him, because Ted might be biased about Sam for a lot of unimportant and unspecified reasons. But he can appreciate handsomeness, no matter how douchey it might be. 

When Charlotte recognises him there’s a hint of panic on her face, for the smallest second. It’s almost amusing, but somehow, Ted isn’t really in the mood for laughs. And she calms down very quickly, smiling at him instead. ‘Ted!’, she says cheerfully. Ted frowns. She sounds strange. Not like she’s faking whatever cheer she’s showing but just- not the way Ted knows it. He’s not sure he likes the thought that the happiness Charlotte has with her husband - as fleeting as it might be - is different from the one - again, as fleeting and fragile as it might be - she has with Ted, and that it’s something he will never get to experience. 

Then, he puts all his energy into the most insincere and uncomfortable smile he can manage. He’s sure Charlotte is going to be upset about this, but if he can’t punch Sam in his face right here and right now, he needs to do something else. Something petty and stupid, yeah, whatever. Just something. 

‘Charlotte, hi,’ he says. He turns to Sam and extends a hand. ‘You must be… Stan, right?’

‘Sam,’ Charlotte says with the same cheer, but a look in Ted’s direction that is a very clear warning. ‘This is Sam, my husband. I’m sure I told you about him before.’ 

‘Right,’ Ted says. He shoots a look in Charlotte’s direction that he intends as a challenge but he thinks it might just be a sad and pathetic expression instead. ‘Of course, sorry.’ 

‘Sam, sweetheart, this is Ted, a coworker of mine.’

Sam takes Ted’s hand and they shake. Ted tries very hard to crush Sam’s hand as painfully as possible, but he doesn’t even bat an eye. He smiles an ugly smile at Ted. ‘Nice to meet you,’ Sam says. Ted isn’t very good at reading people. But he can still tell that Sam is lying. 

Good. 

‘My pleasure,’ Ted says, his teeth clenched. 

‘What brings you here?’, Charlotte asks Ted, and then says without letting him answer, ‘Sam and I were just on our way to the Starlight Theatre.’

She snakes an arm around Sam’s waist. Ted would like to throw himself in front of the next car. ‘That sounds great,’ he says. He shoves his hands in his pockets. He pulls up his shoulders and tries his hardest to look cool and unbothered. He can see in Charlotte’s face that it doesn’t work. ‘I was just on my way home,’ he says. Charlotte nods. She’s probably relieved to hear that. ‘Well, we hope you’ll have a great night, right Sam?’ 

‘Yes, sure,’ Sam says noncommittally. He lets Charlotte take his hand into hers and bares his teeth in what looks like a smile. 

Ted’s eyes wander to Charlotte’s hand, intertwined with Sam’s. His stomach turns a little. Him and Charlotte don’t share a lot of affection. Sometimes there’s a squeeze of hands or fingers run through hair, and there are those nights when they fall asleep next to each other, and wake up clinging to each other. Not even the counseling could change that. 

But it’s not much in total. It’s still not something Ted likes to imagine; Charlotte falling asleep in Sam’s arms. He knows it’s not very likely. But he still can’t look away from Charlotte holding Sam’s hand. 

‘Have a great night,’ Sam adds. Ted nods stiffly. ‘You too.’

When they leave, Ted stays right where he is, on that sidewalk. Charlotte turns around once, and waves at him. He waves back. 

Charlotte and Sam walk around a corner and they’re out of sight. Ted just stays where he is, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot. 

‘Fuck,’ he mutters to himself. Then, a little louder, he says, ‘fuck’. 

He walks into the bar he just left and orders a drink. And then another. And then a couple more ones just to be sure.

By the time it’s dark outside Ted is drunk enough to not feel a single emotion. 

But fuck, not even that is true, is it? 

Ted is cradling his recent drink (he’s not even sure what kind it is anymore, everything is tasting the same to him at this point), staring out of the window like he’s waiting for someone to come and pick him up. Maybe give him a good slap and put him to bed. Maybe just hit him unconscious or something. 

He hopes Charlotte is having a great time, he really does. He hopes they’re watching a great show, and that Charlotte is holding his hand the entire time and maybe squeezes it in the especially nice moments. Fuck, he hopes Sam is really sweet the entire time. 

And mostly he hopes he could just spend a night, just one single night, without thinking of Charlotte and her crappy husband. 

Eventually, Ted drags himself home and locks the door behind him. He goes straight to bed, and doesn’t fall asleep for another hour or two. 

4\. After that, Ted makes a new habit of annoying the shit out of Charlotte. She can’t tell anyone at work about Sam without him being there, ruining it. 

‘You should leave Sam.’

Charlotte does her best to ignore it whenever she can, and Ted knows that it’s a shitty thing to do. Soon it sneaks into all of their interactions like some kind of dark cloud hanging over an arguably already sad city. 

Ted really doesn’t want to be doing it either. He keeps deciding to stop. But he also keeps doing it. 

‘Terrible weather we’re having, isn’t it?’ - ‘You should leave Sam.’

‘How was your weekend?’ - ‘You should leave Sam.’

‘I don’t have any plans later today.’ - ‘You should leave Sam.’

Ted isn’t sure why he keeps insisting on having such a bad time. It’s not like Charlotte would ever leave Sam, and do what, exactly? Come around to be with him? Be his  _ girlfriend _ ? Even if that was what he wanted, it’s not going to happen. So he should just leave her alone and let her be- happy. With her lying, cheating scumbag of a husband. 

But Charlotte keeps coming back to him, no matter how much bullshit he cooks up. 

Tonight is a bad night for Ted. He's been drinking for what feels like hours now, another bad habit he's developed, one that he hates particularly. Because it reminds him of Sam. 

This is of course something he will deny until he's on his deathbed.

Charlotte has been texting him the whole night. He has no idea what she wants because he's been very busy staring into space and regretting a great deal of things. He assumes that she's lonely, or that she's had a fight with Sam, or maybe she just wants to tell him how great counseling is working out for her. How amazing Sam is. Or how much she loves him. 

God, she really should leave Sam. He's just about to reach for his phone to tell her this (and make her stop texting, because that one always stops her) when he hears a knock at his apartment door. 

He takes a moment to bury his face in his hands and curse whichever god is out there. Then he gets up, and walks towards the knock with unsteady feet. 

He doesn't think about who could be knocking on the other side. He blindly assumes it's a neighbor here to complain about the noise. He doesn't think about the fact that the only noise in his apartment the past hours has been the vibrating of his phone. 

He opens the door and his grumpy greeting dies right on his tongue when he finds himself staring at Charlotte. 

'Hey, what- what the fuck?', he somehow manages. He's realising a little too late that he's actually too drunk to stand. 

A frown appears on Charlotte's face; she has her arms wrapped around herself like she's trying to give herself a hug. Something in Ted's chest aches. Nice. He's finally drunk himself all the way to a heart failure. 

'Are you alright?', Charlotte asks. 'You don't look well.' 

'I'm great,' Ted slurs, 'thanks for asking. Good night.' He does a lazy peace sign and goes to close the door, but Charlotte is somehow already inside. Fuck, he's really drunk, isn't he. 

'Listen, Charlotte, I'm sorry about whatever Sam did this time but this is a really bad time. I have big plans tonight, as you can see.' He points to the kitchen (where Charlotte has already gone, Jesus, is he blacking out?) and, more importantly, to the half finished bottle on the table. 

'You drank all this alone?', Charlotte asks. Her voice is calm, but even in this state Ted can tell there's something else behind it. He laughs. It's an ugly sound in the silence of the apartment. 'Oh hell no, honey, you just missed my date, she was really thirsty-' 

'Ted.' 

Ted shuts up. Apparently it is that easy. Charlotte should say his name like this more often. 

What had it sounded like? He can't put a finger on it. She sounded angry, tired, maybe even gentle but definitely sad. 

'Sorry,' Ted mumbles, and this time he means it. 

'You're drunk,' Charlotte states, as if Ted doesn't know that. 

'I'm fine,' he says, his eyes on Charlotte's feet. 'What do you want?' Charlotte looks at him without understanding. 'What?' 

'I mean,' Ted sighs, and presses a finger against his temple. His eyes are starting to burn. He's about to fall asleep on his feet. 'Why are you here?' 

'Oh,' Charlotte says. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest. She looks very unhappy. Ted swallows. 

'Don't worry about that,' she says eventually. It sounds like she doesn't mean it. 'You need to go to bed.' 

Ted scoffs. He stands up a little straighter. 'I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions, thank you Charlotte.' He wants to take a step towards the door to get Charlotte out of here when his body finally remembers just how much alcohol he's had. 

His knees give in, and he finds himself stumbling. He probably would have landed right on his face, but Charlotte is somehow fast enough to catch and support him. 

'Fuck,' Ted mutters. He closes his eyes, as if it's gonna make him disappear from this apartment, this body, and Charlotte's hands. 

'Jesus, Ted,' Charlotte says softly. She helps him stand up.

Why is she still here? She must see that there's nothing Ted can do for her tonight. She should have left the moment she saw him in the doorway. Ted doesn't understand, and he's just about to tell her that when she says, 'that's it. Come on, we're getting you to bed, you have to work tomorrow.'

Ted thinks of a biting response. He doesn't say it. 

It feels nice, to have Charlotte's arms around him. Somehow, her warmth manages to make its way through the haze of alcohol in Ted's brain. Suddenly, he just wants to tell her that. Maybe ask her to not let go. 

He says nothing, not even when she half pushes, half drags him to his bedroom. 

Once he's settled into bed, he's immediately half asleep. But he does manage to think to himself that Charlotte looks strange in this room like this. 

It's not like this is somehow new to him or to Charlotte. But the way she stands there, looking at him with this gaze he can't decipher- it feels new, different. 

And also dangerous. 

'Why are you here,' Ted manages to mumble loud enough for Charlotte to hear. 

Charlotte's eyes turn darker, sadder. So quietly he almost can't hear her, she says, 'I was worried about you, you idiot.' 

It's nice of her to say that. It makes Ted ease up a little. He feels a little less heavy. Which is why it doesn't make any sense that he says what he says next. 

'You should leave Sam.' For the first time, he feels like maybe, that's not all of it. Like there's more he wants to say. 

He doesn't add anything else. 

Charlotte looks down on him. It's probably just the alcohol, but for a moment, Ted gets the feeling that maybe, she also has something more she wants to say. 

He dismisses the thought as soon as it pops up. It's ridiculous and foolish. 

Great, so now he's really going insane. He's never gonna drink any alcohol ever again. 

'Just try to sleep a little.' Charlotte doesn't say please. Somehow, it feels like she wanted to, but swallowed the word the last second. 

When she leaves the room, Ted is already asleep. 

He wakes up with a terrible hangover, which feels fair to him. What doesn't feel fair is the fact that he remembers everything he did and said last night. 

Even without the hangover, the thought of Charlotte's endlessly tired expression would be enough to make him throw up. 

He's sitting on the edge of his bed and has his face buried in his hands.

This is the moment that he's tried to avoid for months, maybe even years. 

Ted thinks of that christmas party forever ago, the one that started this whole thing. What had Charlotte said back then? 

_ Don't worry, Ted, you can't surprise me. _

Ted is going to bet any amount of money that she sure as hell would be surprised if she knew that he'd caught feelings for her.

Ted is really good at being a dickhead. More than enough people have told him this throughout his life, wether it was ex-partners from high school, annoyed coworkers or crabby baristas whose names he doesn't even know. Ted doesn't blame them for it, he's given them every reason to think so. 

He's been amazing at having casual relationships without getting attached. Whenever things would get too personal, or too emotional, he'd be out quicker than one could flash a peace sign and click their tongue. Ted never takes risks, and never regrets shit. And most importantly, he never gets soft or lets his heart get in the way. 

He wouldn't even believe it is still beating in his chest if it wasn't for Charlotte. 

She was the perfect opportunity to have some innocent fun. Reserved and quiet, not naive, unhappily married but still devoted to her husband. 

Ted didn't put into account that she is also sweet, and kind, and ridiculously patient with him. That she takes no shit, and that she, once she's comfortable around someone, laughs that way that Ted has never heard anyone laugh. 

'Fuck,' Ted mutters. He laughs. It's an empty sound that sounds even sadder in the silence of his bedroom. 

At first Ted thought maybe he just felt sorry for her. Her husband was making her miserable and all she had to distract herself was the office sleazeball. Sure, it was a little concerning that he wanted to make her feel a little better. But that didn't mean he was feeling something for her. He was just going a little soft, which was embarrassing of course, but maybe just a part of getting older. Nothing he couldn't handle. 

That was what he thought, at least until he started coming home after long days of work, and finding himself confused that Charlotte wasn't there. Sometimes, when he'd watch something on TV, he would turn around as if she was right next to him. He would feel like something was wrong every time he woke up without her next to him. 

He would come up with ridiculous excuses to spend more time with her at work, take her to coffee shops during their lunch breaks, throwing caution in the wind and just listening to her talk. 

He'd ask her, not tell her but  _ ask _ her to leave her husband. He'd phrase it all wrong all the time, make it sound uncaring or biting, but he'd mean it nonetheless. Every time the smile died on Charlotte's face after hearing him say it, a dark hole would open in his chest. He wanted to apologise every time.

And sometimes, he wouldn't say anything for a whole day, and just let her be. 

He'd pretend, sometimes, when she came over, that they weren't a cheating wife and a homewrecker, but something different instead, something Ted will never say out loud. 

Sometimes, he'd get drunk for a whole night and not respond to any text, hoping it might make her worry, hoping that maybe, she'd care a little. And when she would actually come by to check on him, he would tell her terrible things to make her regret ever thinking about him. When he could just tell her something else. 

Ted won't, though, because he can imagine Charlotte's reaction way too well. And he isn't exactly in the mood for being pitied. 

So he's going to shut up, and just be quietly in love with Charlotte until the feeling fades. 

He calls in sick for work, goes back to bed, and waits for the feeling to fade. 

5\. It doesn't fade. If anything, things get worse. 

Ted stops telling her to leave Sam, for the most part. Sometimes it slips out, when Charlotte contacts him in the middle of the night, looking miserable and alone. She just shakes it off, and says, 'Don't be silly, Ted.' 

Ted tries to take it to heart, so now, two months after the night he got drunk and realised things, Charlotte still has no idea that he-

Well. She has no idea. 

Ted thinks about telling her sometimes, when she looks at him in that certain way and he thinks that maybe she might- she might-

But whenever he does think about it, he hears Charlotte in his head, and she always says the same thing. 

'Don't be silly, Ted.' 

So Ted isn't. 

Things have continued the same old way the past few months. They'll probably continue the same old way in the future as well, and keep continuing until Ted dies. Or the world ends. Or maybe both.

Tonight is a quiet night for them. Sam is out of town for the weekend. He isn't coming back until tomorrow evening. It almost feels like maybe Charlotte lives in this place alone. Like Ted is simply visiting and doesn't need to leave before it gets dark tomorrow. 

Charlotte smiles at him when he comes in. Ted relaxes a little. It's warm inside. It looks the same as always. 

Ted doesn't want to but he can't help but to wonder if Sam feels this at ease, this familiar entering this apartment. If he feels like he's coming home after a long day. If he feels like home looking at Charlotte. Like Ted does. 

Ted knows that Sam is cheating on Charlotte, has been for a long while. Ted wonders if he feels at home with the other woman. If he misses her when he's with Charlotte. 

Ted wonders if Charlotte misses- 

Ted shakes his head, and laughs quietly. It's silly, to imagine it being this easy. Of course it's not. Maybe if it was, he wouldn't just pretend to be at home here. 

But it isn't, so he really should shut up about it already.

'What's so funny?', Charlotte asks. She's locking the door behind Ted. There's a very small smile around her lips. Ted likes her bigger and bolder smiles a lot more. But he hasn't seen those in forever, so this is more than enough to make his insides flutter. 

'Nothing, don't worry about it,' Ted says. He walks towards Charlotte and takes her face in his hands. When he kisses her, her eyes are closed and her body is relaxed. 

The kiss is messy and unconcrentated, like Ted is distracted by something. He tries to kiss her properly, but it's like he's forgotten how to do it.

He tells himself that this has nothing to do with how much he wants to kiss her. 

Charlotte doesn't seem to notice. 

Ted furrows his brows in frustration when the satisfaction doesn't set in. He just wants more. He pulls her closer and closer, but even when he draws the tiniest moan from Charlotte's lips, it's not enough. 

He almost forgets his frustration when he breaks the kiss and looks at Charlotte. Her cheeks are red, her pupils are wide. She's biting her lip. She's ridiculously beautiful.

Ted shallows roughly. He clears his throat. None of it helps at all. 

'What was that for?', Charlotte asks. Her fingers brush over her lips. It doesn't look like she even notices she's doing it. 

Ted hasn't kissed her like this in a while. He supposes he's not the only one that hasn't. 

'I don't know,' he says. He puts on the worst, sleaziest grin he can manage. 'I guess I just missed you.' His hoarse voice betrays him. 

'I see,' Charlotte says. The tiniest smile appears on her face. She holds out her hand. 'Come on, then.' 

She pulls him to the bedroom. But even this isn't enough for him. He is clingy and desperate, much more so than he usually is. 

It feels foolish, but for some reason, he's afraid. It's hard to explain. It's like he feels he's running out of time. Like every moment he isn't kissing Charlotte, touching Charlotte or maybe just looking at her is a wasted moment that he's never going to get back. 

He doesn't believe that Charlotte is going to get things right with Sam any time soon, but he still feels uneasy when they let go of each other. 

Ted doesn't get up out of bed once they're done; he rarely does, lately. Sometimes Charlotte sneaks out to the balcony to have a cigarette. Sometimes Ted follows her. Sometimes, like now, he just lies there and takes in the bedroom.

He always thought it was a nice room. Maybe it is just because when he wakes up in here, it's usually with Charlotte next to him or at least just a room away. 

The mornings he wakes up to the sound of the coffee machine in the kitchen are his favourites. He would never admit that, of course. 

Sometimes Charlotte would come over to his place. But most of the time, she'd leave right after, and Ted would spend the rest of his night in an empty apartment, staring at all the walls that need repainting. 

Ted likes this much better. 

'Are you okay?', Charlotte asks when she comes back inside. She's standing in the doorway to the balcony. She's looking at him with some sort of innocent curiosity. Ted tries not to enjoy it too much. 

It doesn't really work. 

'Yeah, sure', he says. He drags a hand over his face. 'Just tired, I guess. Why do you ask?' 

Charlotte shrugs. She walks over and sits down on his side of the bed (or Sam's side, probably). She puts a hand on his leg. 'You just seemed a little on edge today. Like something's eating at you.' 

Ted can't help it; he actually laughs at that. 'Sorry,' he says and covers his eyes with his hand for a second. What is he supposed to say?  _ Yeah Charlotte, you know what, now that you mention it, I've sort of been in love with you for about half a year. Do you think there's anything you could do about that?  _

'Everything's fine. Sorry,' he adds again. 'I didn't mean to worry you.' 

Charlotte frowns a little, then shakes her head. She looks just past his face, right on the edge of his (Sam's) pillow. 'You didn't,' she says so quietly Ted almost doesn't hear her. 

'Do you-' Charlotte bites her lip and hesitates. It catches Ted's eye. He's used to her making nervous gestures. She does it all the time at work, especially when she's thinking of something, or when someone asks her a question. When she's startled. 

She makes them often. But never when she's with Ted. He almost sits up. Instead, he just puts his hand on Charlotte's. 

She stares down at it like she's never seen it before. After a moment of silence Ted grins. He can't help it. 

'Do I…?' Charlotte looks up, and then her eyes widen. 'Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm silly.' 

No, Ted is the one that is silly. Ted is the one hopelessly endeared by anything Charlotte says or does. Ted is the one that's in love with her. 

Instead of telling her any of this, he just says, 'You're not silly.'

He sounds way too sincere for his own liking. But it does the trick. 

'I was going to ask if there's anything you have to do tomorrow. Any plans.' She's not looking at him when she speaks. Her eyes are on their hands instead. 

Charlotte usually doesn't ask this. If Sam isn't around, Ted usually just stays without any of them talking about it or acknowledging it. Asking him this is completely unnecessary. Silly, even. 

So why is there a stupid warmth spreading in Ted's chest? Why does he smile in a way he wasn't even sure he still could? 

'No, not really,' he answers. His voice sounds way too soft, so he clears his throat and tries to look like the sleazeball he is. It almost works. 'Do you?' 

Charlotte chuckles, then shakes her head. 'No, no plans.' She runs a finger over Ted's hand. Then she looks at him. 'Would you like to stay?' 

Ted nods. 'I think I do.'

When Charlotte lays back down next to Ted, it feels very strange. Like this is different, heavier. It scares Ted, but not as much as the fact that he finds that this feels just so, so right. He wants to turn to Charlotte and put his arms around her and fall asleep and never wake up again. 

But he's Ted, and she's Charlotte, and so they just lie next to each other in the quiet. It’s almost enough for Ted. 

Almost. 

His eyes land on one of the throw pillows that ended up on the floor of the bedroom. He smiles a little. ‘How come you never got a cat?’

‘Huh?’ Charlotte turns to him. Ted stays in the same position he was in when he asked, on his back. His eyes are now turned to the ceiling. 

But he can see Charlotte from the corners of his eyes. 

‘Oh, well,’ Charlotte says. ‘You know, I did have one, when I was a teenager. Tiny little thing. Loved her with all my heart.’ Ted can hear the smile in her voice. ‘What happened?’

‘Oh, you know.’ Charlotte takes one deep breath before continuing. She is still smiling. She probably thinks Ted can't tell the difference. ‘I went to college, and my parents took care of her. And then I met Sam. And we got married.’ 

Something heavy appears in Ted’s stomach as he understands. ‘Oh.’ He covers his eyes with his arms and says, ‘I’m sorry.’

Charlotte chuckles. ‘It was no trouble. It’s not Sam’s fault he’s allergic, after all.’ 

‘Yeah,’ Ted mutters. His lifts his arm and finally turns to Charlotte. She looks fine. Which is to say, she looks like she always looks. 

Ted isn’t even sure what fine would look like on her anymore. 

‘Do you miss her?’ 

Ted is being a little too nice, a little too curious. He’s sure Charlotte notices. But she doesn’t mention it. She just smiles. ‘Sometimes.’

Ted doesn’t think of what he does next. He just takes Charlotte's hand. 

Charlotte looks at him for a very long time, with an expression he can't read. A couple of times he thinks she's going to smile again but she doesn't. She just looks at him, and there it is again. The thought that maybe, if he just had the courage to tell her, to ask her, she'd say-

She squeezes his hand. 'It's okay,' she says. He thinks that it probably is. But at the same time, he knows that it isn't. 

'What about you?'

Ted blinks. 'What about me?', he asks back, like an idiot. 'Do you want any pets?' 

'Oh, I don't know,' Ted says. His gaze wanders back to the ceiling, away from Charlotte. 'I think I'd like to get a cat, someday. Always thought that might be nice.'

'Why don't you?' He's probably going crazy, but he has a feeling she's moved a little closer. Ted shrugs. 'I'm just not the nicest guy. Not very affectionate, or whatever. I figured if I get a cat I'm just gonna make it miserable. You know me,' he clears his throat. He feels ridiculous. 'I'm an asshole. Not the kind of guy to get a cute little pet.' 

Charlotte makes a thoughtful noise. 'I don't know, Ted,' she says then. 'I'm sure that's not true. I'll bet you could take great care of a cat.' 

He laughs quietly, at how sincere and wonderful she is, and at how it hurts to hear her be so kind. Being kind to him, no less, which is something she'll never get anything out of. 

'Better not say that,' he teases. 'If I do get a cat and it's miserable, it's gonna know this is your fault.' 

Charlotte chuckles. 'I'm not worried about that. I'll vouch for you.' 

_ Why, _ Ted wants to ask, but he doesn't. He looks at Charlotte like he can find the answer on her face. He just sees that she's very tired. 

Ted is also tired. But in his case, it's more of a constant state than a feeling. 

He reaches out to Charlotte's face and brushes a loose strand of hair out of her face. Her eyes follow his hand and then her gaze is fixed on his face. It looks like she's trying to find something in his expression. He's sure it doesn't work. 

Instead of saying something teasing or saying something heavy, he just opens his arms. 'Come here,' he says. 

And Charlotte does. She wraps her arms around Ted's waist and buries her face in his chest. Ted has one hand on her back, the other in her hair. 

He can tell the exact moment when Charlotte falls asleep by the way her breathing changes. Ted tries to breathe in the same rhythm as her but it doesn't work. He tries to sleep but it doesn't work. He tries to turn off his dumbass brain and all the thoughts of just how much he wants this, and what he would give to have this, and how little anything matters in this moment but Charlotte's breathing and the weight of her against him. 

It doesn't work. 

'Fuck,' Ted mutters under his breath. But apparently he can't even curse his troubles away, which usually works a treat. 'Why do you gotta be like that, Charlotte,' he whispers. Charlotte has no answers; she is still sound asleep. Ted knows that once she's fallen asleep, throwing her out of the bed is barely enough to wake her. Ted knows that when she comes to work after nights they didn't spend together, she's always tired and on edge, like she spent the time tossing and turning instead. 

But not when Ted is there. He is the one tossing and turning during those nights. 

Except now, he can't even do that because Charlotte is right in his arms and some stupid part of his brain can't help but think that letting go of her now would be a terrible mistake. 

'Fuck this,' Ted says to himself. He's not going to ramble about things that he shouldn't say out loud to a person that cannot hear him. 

No, he's just going to pretend he's asleep until he actually is and he's going to dream of nothing and once he wakes Charlotte is already going to be up, maybe making coffee and maybe just staring out of the window like she's terrified of the cars that pass her house. 

Yep, great plan. Ted evens out his breathing. In, and out. In, and out. In, and out. He doesn't even remember what he was thinking about. 

'Do you really still love him, though?'

It doesn't even feel like he's saying it. It's like listening to a stranger talk. It's like wishing that stranger would finally shut up and move on with their life. 

'I just keep- I'm trying to believe you, I really am.' Ted sighs. Charlotte is asleep, it's late and he is in love with her. He might as well make this mistake, too. 

'But I just don't. I'm sorry,' he closes his eyes and sighs. He's an asshole. 'I shouldn't talk like this. I know it's not fair. But I just- when was the last time you woke up with him there, huh? The last time he made you breakfast, or drove you to work. The last time he- smiled at you. Made you feel- wanted.' 

He bites his lip. 'He's not good enough for you. You know it, I know it. I just don't know why you keep making excuses for him.' 

Ted presses her lips into her hair for a kiss that's tiny and short and that she will never know has happened. Then, he makes it worse. 

He can never, ever say these things to her face. He knows this. But if he doesn't say them at all he thinks he might never be able to sleep again. 

'I'm terrible at making breakfast, you know.' He chuckles lowly. 'I skip it most days, literally just because it's a shit show every time. You don't wanna see me try.' 

But he doesn't know what Charlotte wants, because he picked this moment to tell her what he's been thinking about for months and she can't even hear him. 

'But I would, you know. I would try. I would make you a terrible breakfast, but I'd make it every morning. I could make a better dinner.' 

He clears his throat but it doesn't help. 

'I would take care of you. It would probably be shitty and underwhelming, but I'd really try.' 

His hand in Charlotte's hair comes to a still. Getting the next words out is not easy. He could technically just give up, maybe even get up and leave and never come back. He could just turn his back on Charlotte and this town and he would be done. 

'All you'd have to do is ask, you know. Just say the words and I'll be there.' He swallows when it sets in just how much he means what he says. 'I could do right by you. I could love you. I really, really could.' 

He bites his lip to keep it from trembling. This at least works, at least a little. 

'And look, I'm not an idiot, alright?', he adds. He's still talking in this kind of half-whisper, like it's a real possibility he's gonna wake Charlotte up and she'll look at him with wide eyes and a million questions. But she won't; her breathing hasn't changed and Ted knows that she's still asleep. 'I know I'm not good enough for you, either.'

After this, he doesn't say anything for a while. He just wallows in his misery a little. He thinks of the kiss they shared in the doorway earlier. He would give anything to have that; the chance to give Charlotte a 'welcome home' kiss every day. Maybe just a small and distracted one, on her cheek or the top of her head. To have just a tiny part of all of her. 

'And none of this matters if you really, really love him, you know?', he says then. 'Because if you really do, then let's just keep doing whatever the fuck you'd call this, and I'm fine with that. And I really hope you guys can be happy again.' 

Not even that is a lie, which scares Ted a lot. 

'I just don't think that you do. And if you don't love him anymore, maybe you'd want to move on. You should know that I'm- I'm here, in any case.' 

Ted's voice is wavering a little, and this is the point he finally shuts up. 

He just shifts a little closer to Charlotte. When she stirs slightly, he gives her a short kiss on her forehead. He thinks maybe she smiles at that, but he's probably wrong. 

He finally closes his eyes, breathes in the room around him and after a long while, he falls asleep. 

5+1. Ted is in the office, sporting a massive headache. He should probably get up and get himself something to drink or maybe go smoke a cigarette or maybe he should just go home and get blackout drunk. 

He wishes Paul were around, but like this, he can't even annoy him. 

Come to think of it, Paul has been gone for a while. Shouldn't Davidson's lecture be over around now?

He looks over to where Charlotte is sitting, barely getting any work done. He remembers the day she looked exactly like she does now, the day he showed her the roof.

It feels like it was decades ago. Fuck, Ted feels so old. It cannot be physically healthy to be in love with the same person for such a long time. 

He should probably go and see a doctor. 

But in the meantime, he gets up from his desk and walks over to hers. He grabs Paul's chair and sits down next to her.

'Hey,' he says. 'You alright?' 

Charlotte barely looks up from her screen but she doesn't flinch like she did with Paul earlier which Ted takes as a good sign. 

'Yeah, yes, of course.' Charlotte still doesn't look at him. 'Why do you ask?' 

'You just don't seem fine to me.'

Charlotte keeps her back ramrod straight and looks ahead. The effect is a little lost due to the fact that she doesn't even have a hand on the mouse and is just staring at the screen. 'I'm fine, Ted.' 

'Well, okay, great,' Ted says. He leans back and crosses his arms before his chest. 'Can you maybe tell me that while you're looking at me?' 

Charlotte takes an exasperated breath and turns to Ted. ‘Do you not have any work to do?’ She’s trying to sound harsh, probably. She just sounds miserable instead. 

Ted hates that he can’t do shit but sit here, and not do anything to make her feel better. He wants to just take Charlotte into his car and drive out of this awful fucking town, anywhere she wants to go.

But he knows that there’s just one place Charlotte wants to go. And that it's no place Ted can take her. 

So all he can do is say a ‘Yeah, sure, I guess’ in a bitter voice. He’s just about to roll away and get back to his own desk when Bill shows up before them. 

He looks even more distraught than in the morning. ‘Have you seen Paul?’, he asks. 

In the corner of his eyes, Ted sees Charlotte smile. He pretends that it doesn’t hurt. 

‘Sorry, Bill, not since the morning. Wasn’t he called into Mr Davidson’s office?’ 

‘He was, but that was hours ago.’

Ted supposes he isn’t really part of the conversation but he chimes in anyway. ‘Who cares.’ He shrugs. ‘He’s probably just at Beanie’s, as usual.’ 

‘I suppose,’ Bill says. ‘I’m just worried. Mr Davidson has called in lots of other people into his office since the morning. Just a couple minutes ago he’s called in Melissa. I’m sure one of us is gonna be next.’

Ted rolls his eyes. This is probably a really great time to get out of here and take a long and unsafe drive to nowhere. 

He's just about to get up from Paul's chair and the fuck out of the office when a noise floats through the office. He freezes. So do Bill and Charlotte. 

'Is that Melissa?', Charlotte asks. 'Is she-'

'Singing.' Bill's eyes are wide. 'Just like Paul said.'

Fuck, where  _ is _ Paul? Is he somewhere out there, singing his heart out? Ted thinks if that's the case they all have a big problem. 

Then, another voice joins in. It's Davidson. 'Jesus fuck,' Ted mutters. The hair on his arms is standing up; there's a shiver going down his spine.

Why is this scary? It shouldn't be scary. It's just singing. 

Singing that keeps getting louder. And coming closer. 

'Fuck this,' Ted says. He gets up. 'Come on, Charlotte. We're getting out of here.' 

Charlotte doesn't say  _ Don't be silly, Ted. It's just singing. _ She doesn't even say,  _ I'm not going anywhere with you _ or any of the things he would expect. She just gets up and says, 'Where can we go?'

And that's when Ted gets really scared. 'I don't know,' he says. 'Anywhere that's not here. There has to be a place.' He takes Charlotte's arm. He's probably way too gentle. Charlotte doesn't mention it. 

'Bill,' Ted says, 'come on. Let's get the fuck out of here.' Bill just looks at him for a second, then he nods. 

Ted feels a little better once they're outside. Charlotte has taken hold of his arm now and Bill is just behind them.

He feels a little better, at least until they have a look at the parking lot. 

'Fuck,' Ted mutters and then, a little louder, he adds, 'fuck.' He turns to Bill. 'Your car?' 

Just like Ted expects, Bill points to the parking lot. The parking lot full of people doing- some kind of choreography. While singing from the top of their lungs. 

It sounds amazing, which is probably the worst part of it all. Ted remembers what Charlotte said earlier.  _ Today, he sounded like an angel. And I don't know why. But it frightened me. _

Ted didn't understand then. He sure as fuck understands now. 

What he feels right now is not the feeling of sitting at the dentist. It's not even what it presumably feels like to have a gun pointed to your head. It's the feeling of falling. 

The bad thing isn't looming. It's already happened, and there's nothing to be done about it anymore.

They can only run. 

'Alright, fine,' Ted says. Without thinking much about it, he takes Charlotte's hand. From the corner of his eye, he notices Charlotte taking ahold of Bill's arm, too. It's alright. There's more important things right now.

At least that's what Ted tells himself. 

So they run.

It's a terrible idea. Sure, it's the only one they have. But that doesn't make it any less terrible. There's simply nowhere to go. 

'This is pointless,' Bill says. They're currently hiding in an alley, watching more people sing and dance through the streets. 'We can't keep running,' Charlotte agrees. 'We need to hide.' 

She's right, of course, and so is Bill. They can't outrun this. Ted would rather try, though, than to hide somewhere and wait for it to catch up with him. 

Maybe it is a good idea to hide, because the alley they choose is the one Paul runs right into. He has one of Beanie’s baristas with him, and he is no less terrified than the rest of them. 

But at least he’s not singing. 

Ted is also relieved to recognise the barista because she is a crabby asshole and exactly the kind of person to relax Ted in a situation like this. It’s stupid of course, to try and start a fight. But anything that can take his mind of the situation they’re in is good enough for him. 

It doesn’t last long. 

Charlotte has called Sam. Ted didn’t even notice. Maybe he was just pretending not to. Like he’s pretending he isn’t seeing the look of relief on her face right now, when they’re hearing the siren. Who cares if Charlotte suddenly thinks she’s safe? She isn’t. 

Because Sam is also singing. And Ted can’t do anything but stare at him and wonder if Sam is still in there somewhere. If walking up to him and punching him in his stupid face would make any difference. 

The answer is probably no but it still feels good to hit him with the lid of the trash can. Something warm and sticky and blue splashes on his face. It smells sweet. Ted wipes it off with his sleeve. 

When he looks up again, Charlotte has a gun. Ted doesn’t think he’s ever seen her yell at anyone before.

She looks very, very scared. 

Charlotte screams at Ted when she's kneeling next to Sam and Ted screams back. He thinks it might help calm him down but instead it's just incoherent and it puts him even more on edge. Because he doesn't even  _ want _ to yell at Charlotte. He just hates that his hands are shaking, and there's something on it that isn't blood and his vision just won't clear properly. 

Then Charlotte starts crying and it helps Ted get his brain in order. It doesn't quite feel like waking up from a nightmare, because Ted still feels terrible. It's more like when you're very drunk and someone dunks your head into ice cold water. It hurts right behind his eyes but he can still see clearly. 

'No, no, Charlotte,' Ted says when she tries to stand up on legs that shake way too much to carry her. He says the first thing that comes to mind, which unfortunately is not very intelligent. 'We are all from different denominations, alright? We cannot split up. I'm a presbytarian, I'm not gonna die in your dirty-ass methodist church.' He looks up to the Barista - Emma, was it? They have to be smart about this. That's not something that Ted is good at. But a biology professor might just be. 'I say we go to the panic room and beg for the king's help.' 

Somehow, the rest of the group agrees with him. They take Sam and Sam's car and Ted helps Bill carry him even though he can't stop thinking that they're making a terrible mistake. 

The professor appears to be pretty much insane. But you cannot say that he isn’t prepared for what is happening out there. 

Ted would love to say he feels safe in this fortress. Because whatever monsters or zombies or maybe even aliens like the professor said are all locked out. And because they have Sam tied to a chair and Ted is the one with the keys. And also because him and Paul and Bill and  _ Charlotte  _ \- they’re all here. They’re probably gonna be fine. 

But Ted just needs to have a look at Sam, with that gaping hole in his head and the blue shit all over him, and his throat is getting tight. He just wants to find the nearest window, drag this chair over and shove Sam out of it. Maybe then his heartbeat is gonna slow down a little. 

But he can’t, because the second Paul and the others have disappeared with the Professor, Charlotte is all over her presumably dead or dying husband. 

This is the only thing that feels worse than looking at Sam. Seeing the way  _ Charlotte  _ looks at Sam. 

‘Come on, Charlotte,’ Ted says. He tries to sound gentle, but he’s sure that it doesn’t work. 

Trying to talk her out of this room feels way too much like trying to talk her off the edge. He feels like the stakes have never been higher. 

Ted thinks if he can’t manage to convince Charlotte to have a drink with the others, he’s going to die. 

He can't convince Charlotte. 

She doesn't even look at him until she decides to hit him in the face. Ted catches her hand midair and says the most douchey thing that comes to mind. And it almost works. 

But Charlotte loves her husband. Or at least she's really, really good at pretending she does. So good that Ted is starting to believe her. 

He doesn't even know what he's saying anymore until he suddenly thinks his life is on the line and the most honest thing he's said in months is suddenly dropped into the room.

'Charlotte, this guy is a scumbag, alright? You could upgrade-,' he can feel his throat closing and his heart speeding up but he doesn't shut up.

He really, really should have shut up. 

'To a sleazeball.' He sounds pathetic, this whole offer is pathetic, their entire relationship is pathetic and Ted is the most pathetic of them all. 

Charlotte just stares at him and doesn't say anything. 

Right. He's probably not going to get a more explicit no.

He nods. 'But you refuse to be happy.' He tries to smile but he knows it just looks like his teeth hurt. He rolls his shoulders and makes a choice he already knows he's going to regret. 

'You know what, Charlotte, I'm done.' He shakes his head. 'You can stay here with your dying marriage and your dying husband.' 

The words sting, he can see it on Charlotte's face. That's good. They're supposed to hurt. 

Hurting Charlotte only feels good, and nothing else. 

God, Ted is pathetic. 

He tosses her the keys. 'I'm gonna go hit on that crabby barista.' 

Ted doesn't hit on Emma, of course. He doesn't even consider it. He just drinks, which is apparently the only thing he's actually good at. 

He's gotten really comfortable with a huge bottle that he's working his way through. Then, he gets comfortable fighting a little with Bill, yelling some nonsense at him that Ted doesn't even remember once he's said it. 

And then he just sits around for a few minutes and stares at the floor. 

It's weird. He thought it'd be hard to numb his thoughts. Instead he's already in an amazing haze. He probably didn't even have to drink anything. He's already perfectly empty. 

It's really, really amazing. At least until Charlotte enters the room. 

Ted thinks she's coming to get drunk and maybe pretend that she isn't crying, like she does in the office sometimes. But then he notices that Sam is with her. And he hears her sing. 

Ted dies on the same day, much later. The sun is already going down and Ted is somewhere completely else. 

Ted gets shot right in the throat, which he somehow finds fitting. He would expect he'd die fairly quickly, but instead he feels it all happening. 

He can feel the blood pouring out of him. He can feel the life pour out of him. And he can feel something else pouring in. 

It's not painful. Getting shot is painful, but that's no surprise. 

It is a surprise though, how nice it feels to die. He feels warm and grounded, somehow. He feels it pour in and become a part of him and it's nice and cheerful and sticky and  _ blue _ , and Ted smiles, and then he's dead. 

That's when Ted dies, but the world actually ends much earlier. 

It ends right now, the moment Charlotte comes barging through the door. And the thing that scares Ted the most isn't that she's singing. Or that Sam's right next to her, uncuffed and insane. 

Not even that her fucking guts are hanging out of the fucking cat sweater Charlotte was so proud of, and that they are that unnatural, chemical,  _ awful _ blue. 

No, the worst part of it all, the thing that has Ted's world crashing and burning is something else. 

It's the fact that in the entire time he's known her, been with her, loved her, he's never seen her smile this widely. 

He has known her for years. And she has never looked this happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!


End file.
